


life is sweet in the belly of the beast

by Possiblyenjoyable



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Demigod Michael, Dragon Jeremy, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magical Realism, Pining, Slow Burn, i'll continue to tag as i update, trans!michael, uhhhh i don't know how to TAG
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Possiblyenjoyable/pseuds/Possiblyenjoyable
Summary: There comes a point in every young dragon's life where they appoint someone or something as the crowned jewel of their hoard. Unfortunately for Jeremy, he has no idea that he's done just that... to Michael.Or, the one where Jeremy is cold, Michael is warm, and Jeremy isn't all that scared of getting burned.





	1. blanket piles and nests

The first time Jeremy spends the night at Michael’s, they’re both six years old and absolutely fascinated by each other. It’s understandable, given their ancestry. Jeremy doesn’t know where his dad’s books on it are, but he tells Michael all about how some super old family members of his that are long gone were these two-legged dragons called wyverns. The only other limbs they had aside from their two front legs were their wings, and they didn’t speak like most other dragons did. Jeremy pouts about how lame they are compared to other dragons.

“What?” Michael says in disbelief. He’s sitting cross-legged on Michael’s bed in front of him. “Lame? That sounds so cool! I mean— you’re a  _ dragon!" _   He throws his hands up and waves them excitedly, making Jeremy’s pout fade. “If you ever get wings, you gotta fly me around places.”

Jeremy giggles. “I don’t know if I’ll be that strong. But aren’t you, like… a god? You could probably fly yourself around!”

Michael’s hands lower, his beaming expression fading into a pout not dissimilar from the one Jeremy had just been sporting. “I’m the  _ son _ of a god. Apo Laki. He’s the Filipino sun god, so… I don’t think any flying powers come from that.”

“Well, what other stuff can he do?”

“Uh,” Michael says, “he’s really good at war stuff? I think? Like, figuring out what to do in a war, I guess. But I’m not good at any of that. He’s all wise, or something. I dunno.”

Jeremy purses his lips. “Maybe you’re not good at it  _ yet _ ,” he says. “Maybe you just have to wait to man-i-fest.” Jeremy says the word slowly, like he’s been practicing it.

“Maybe.” Michael smiles a gap-toothed smile. “I hope we manifest at the same time. It’d be so cool!”

Jeremy nods before shivering, pulling the blanket on Michael’s bed around his shoulders. Michael frowns at him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Jeremy shakes his head. “N-Nothing, I just get cold a lot. I’m okay.”

“I have more blankets!” Michael says, scrambling off his bed to the closet in the hallway. Jeremy, in back of his mind, recognizes that Michael has been giving off a strange sort of warmth this entire time. Not enough to keep him from shivering, but just enough for Jeremy to miss it when Michael runs out of his room.

His little arms supporting as many blankets as he possibly can, Michael comes wobbling back in and immediately dumps the pile in front of Jeremy before setting to work wrapping them around his friend. Jeremy can’t help but shriek with laughter every time Michael drapes another heavy comforter over him, hunching over so that eventually he’s lying on his stomach under at  _ least _ six blankets. He’s not cold anymore, he’ll say that much. 

When Michael is done engulfing Jeremy in every blanket that’s ever existed, he kneels down at the end of his bed and sets his chin on his arms, eye-level with Jeremy now. He grins. “Better?”

Jeremy continues to giggle, only his head and arms sticking out from under the pile. “Yeah,” he says. “A lot better. Thanks, Michael.”

Michael pokes Jeremy’s forehead and Jeremy can feel his face warm just from that simple touch. It’s nice. “I don’t want to have a popsicle as my friend.”

“I’m a dragon,” Jeremy says, “so it’s kind of like that. Lots of us are cold all the time.”

“Then it’s a good thing my dad is the sun!” Michael beams. “S’long as I’m your friend, you’ll be warm. ‘Kay?” 

Jeremy blinks a few times. In all his six years of living, he’s never had someone be so adamant about being his friend. A slow smile spreads on his face. He nods. “Okay! And I’ll keep you cool when it’s hot out!”

“Deal,” Michael says very seriously. “I think that’s what adults say when they agree on something.” 

Jeremy nods in confirmation, wiggling a little bit under the blankets. “I wish I knew how to make a nest,” he grumbles to himself, looking over his shoulder at the pile. “Mom never got the chance to teach me.”

Jeremy doesn’t quite understand the look that crosses Michael’s face when he mentions his mother, but in the second that he takes to try and figure out what it means, it disappears. Michael beams at him. “We could make one together,” he suggests. “Can we?”

A little bit blown away by the offer, Jeremy blinks at Michael. “You… you wanna help me make a nest?”

Michael nods vigorously. “Mhmm! We have lots of pillows and lots of blankets. I already have an idea of what to do!”

God, Michael is the best.

“Michael, you’re the best!” Jeremy exclaims, wiggling some more to scoot himself out from the pile of blankets. He rolls onto the floor, grinning up at Michael. “Let’s do it!”

That’s all the encouragement Michael needs to scamper out into the hallway, yelling back at Jeremy that there are some pillows in the closet the blankets came from. Jeremy wonders where he’s going, but he decides that retrieving pillows for his first nest (his  _ first nest! _ ) is more important. He gathers up the few that are in there, bounding back into Michael’s room and throwing them on the floor. Not a moment later, Michael dumps his own armful of pillows onto the pile.

“Okay! This should be enough,” he decides. “C’mon, follow me.” 

Jeremy follows his lead as they begin setting the pillows up in a circle on the floor, piling them on top of each other and setting a few in the middle. Eventually, they’ve got a little circle of pillows with a small indentation in the center just big enough for the two of them to flop down into. Before they do that, however, they throw two large comforters over the pile.    


It’s perfect, Jeremy thinks.

With a high-pitched giggle, Jeremy throws himself down in the nest on his stomach. He kicks his legs in excitement, rubbing his face against the softness of the comforter beneath him. “Michael, you’re the best,” he says.

“You already told me that earlier,” Michael laughs. 

“‘Cause it’s true!” Jeremy insists. Before Michael can object, Jeremy is grabbing his hand and pulling him down into the nest with him. 

“Hey!” Michael says through his laughter, rolling over onto his back. He looks at Jeremy, who’s staring at him like Michael’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. There are practically stars in his eyes. Then, suddenly, they both erupt into a fit of laughter that Jeremy never wants to stop. 

Even the funnest of times have to end, though, and Jeremy can feel a familiar sense of fatigue wash over him. Today’s been a good day, running around with Michael at the park before going back to his house for ice cream. They made an awesome pillow fort and Michael’s wrist is warm in his hand. He slides his hand up to clasp his fingers around Michael’s own.

“I don’t wanna go home tomorrow,” Jeremy murmurs, eyelids heavy with sleep. “Wanna stay here forever.”

Michael yawns loudly, squeezing Jeremy’s hand. “Maybe you can’t stay here forever, but you can always stay with  _ me _ forever. Best friends, right? Can we be best friends?”

Jeremy’s entire body floods with warmth. He closes his eyes and nods into the blankets. “Yeah, we can.”

He doesn’t stay awake long enough to hear whether or not Michael responds, instead letting sleep wash over him. He’s only awakened when he feels a hand gently shaking his shoulder, a soft voice that he recognizes as Nanay telling him that it’s time to get in bed. He hears her say something in Tagalog to Michael, and Jeremy cracks open his eyes so that he can see where he’s going. Nanay helps him up, leading him over to Michael’s bed. 

“Silly boys,” she says, lifting the one blanket on Michael’s bed for Jeremy to crawl under. “You took our pillows. And our blankets.” Ah, so that’s where Michael had disappeared to earlier.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles. 

“It’s alright,” she says softly. “Michael will have enough to sleep on.” 

Jeremy watches as Michael’s other mom comes in to gather their pillows and blankets, leaving just enough for Michael to sleep on. Jeremy can feel a strange tugging sensation in his stomach, and he finds himself missing the warmth that he’d felt when he’d been in the nest with Michael. He doesn’t have much time to worry about that, however, because suddenly Michael is curled up under blankets on the floor and his nanay is running her fingers through Jeremy’s hair affectionately before saying goodnight to them, clicking the door closed softly behind her.

And, well, there’s no reason to lie and say that Jeremy  _ didn’t _ get up in the middle of the night to follow whatever voice inside of him that was telling him to  _ find the warm thing _ , and there’s no reason to lie about the fact that Michael’s parents found him lying across Michael’s stomach in the morning because really, what else could they expect from a cold-blooded hybrid, demigod of the sun duo?


	2. big decisions and broken noses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeremy and Michael pull back, winter is the exception, and Michael breaks a nose.

Jeremy and Michael are thirteen when they come to the conclusion that it’s not so normal for boys their age to be as physically affectionate as they are. It hurts them both, though they’ll never admit it. They’ve been close in nearly every way possible since they met. Teaching themselves how to function without touching the other is a constant struggle, but if the other boys around them don’t hold hands or hug as much as they do, then they won’t either. They’ll restrain themselves. Jeremy never realized how hard it would be.

See, they’ve come to terms with the fact that Jeremy is always cold and Michael is always warm, which means that physical contact with each other is nothing short of a blessing. Jeremy doesn’t know if being warm all the time bothers Michael, but he knows for sure that he hates being cold constantly. Any time Michael touches him he absolutely melts, usually seeking out more of that warmth. They’ve always been like that. They never thought it was strange, but then again, they weren’t usually so open about it in public. 

Jeremy doesn’t know what changed as they entered the eighth grade, but something in his chest blossomed and he found that he wanted to be as close to Michael as he possibly could be at any given moment. It was as if he was seeing him in an entirely new light, although the light was a little bit blinding and he couldn’t quite tell what it was. Even disregarding the fact that he liked how warm Michael is, he liked holding his hand just for the sake of holding his hand, or hugging him just because he’s comfortable to hug and smells nice, or burrowing into his side when he spends the night just because touching Michael not only makes him feel warm, but it makes him feel  _ safe _ and  _ loved. _ But that’s normal, right?

_...Right? _

Apparently not. The disapproving looks and whispered words of confusion and disgust from their surrounding peers made that clear soon enough. 

A month into the school year and Jeremy is restraining himself from grabbing Michael’s hand under the table at lunch, forcing himself not to bury his face into his neck whenever he sits next to him. He doesn’t sleep with Michael’s arm thrown around his waist or with their legs tangled together. There have been several times where they’ve been in class and Michael has gone to rest his head on Jeremy’s shoulder or throw his legs across Jeremy’s, and Jeremy has flinched away to remind him of their mutual decision to pull back. 

There’s still the little things, of course. It would be near impossible for them to cut off  _ all  _ physical contact. They still sit shoulder to shoulder when they play video games, Michael still throws his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders in the hallway at school, Jeremy sometimes still grabs Michael’s wrist under the table when he can tell that Michael is uncomfortable with all the noise around him. The little things help.

And then the first winter after their Big Decision comes, and Jeremy regrets absolutely everything about it.

Jeremy knows that he’s colder than most people during the winter. He normally wears at least three layers of thick clothing just to go outside, complete with a scarf, hat, two pairs of gloves and two pairs of socks. But before now, he’s always had Michael to keep him warm, no questions asked. He would hold onto Michael’s arm whenever they were outside together and the cold would be a little bit more bearable. He’d sit with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his legs sitting across Michael’s legs while they played video games. Michael would hold an arm open in bed for him to burrow into until his teeth stopped chattering. 

And now, they’re not sure if they can still do that. Jeremy tries his damned hardest the first few weeks of snow to keep his shivering to a minimum. He doesn’t want Michael to think he can’t handle it. But he sees the worried glances that Michael casts him out of the corner of his eye as he attempts to steady his shaking hands, attempts to move faster than a sloth even though his bones feel like ice. It doesn’t matter if he’s inside or outside, he’s  _ cold  _ and he’s forgotten how terrible it is to deal with without Michael. And to make matters worse, not only does he miss the physical warmth that comes with touching Michael, but he misses the  _ emotional  _ warmth that comes with it too. Misses it so much he can hardly bear it.

“Dude, do you need another blanket?” Michael asks him one Friday night, Jeremy’s shaking frame wrapped in three extra soft blankets. He pauses Jet Moto to stare at Jeremy worriedly, having never seen him shiver this much before. Probably because Michael was always keeping him warm. “We’ve got more.”

Jeremy nods, offering an apologetic smile before Michael gets up to retrieve another blanket from the closet. Jeremy’s already downed four cups of hot chocolate and Michael’s asked him if he wants his mom to run out and buy him a heated blanket because, geez, this is getting ridiculous. Jeremy can barely talk, he’s so cold. 

With yet another blanket being settled across his shoulders, Jeremy tells Michael to press play on the game so he can finally kick his butt at at least  _ one  _ level. 

To his dismay, there is no butt-kicking on his part. Michael beats him by a solid thirty seconds and all Jeremy can do when the race is over is drop the controller and shove his hands inside the blankets, trying to wrap it around his body as much as he can. He would have beaten Michael if his fingers would just move faster.

“Want some more hot chocolate?” Michael asks, setting a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder through the blankets. Jeremy nearly starts crying just from the vague wave of heat he feels from that simple touch. God, he wishes that he could have been born warm-blooded.

He shakes his head, knowing that it won’t do him any good. “D-Do you have a space heater, or something?” he asks. “Or five?”

Michael stares at him, brow furrowed and mouth set in a thin line. “No,” he says. Jeremy doesn’t know what Michael is looking at him like that for, but he kind of wishes he would stop it already. “We just have more blankets.”

Jeremy sighs. “That’s fine.”

“Dude, let my mom go out and buy you one of those electric blankets—”

“Michael, I’m okay,” Jeremy assures him. His teeth chattering together doesn’t help his case. 

Michael rolls his eyes. “If you’re not going to take the blanket, then scoot over. This is ridiculous, man.” Jeremy stares at him. “Seriously, dude, scoot.”

Jeremy blinks, finally managing to force himself a little bit more to the right of his bean bag. Michael immediately shifts from his own bean bag to Jeremy’s, squishing in beside him so that Jeremy is practically in his lap. Michael pushes the blankets out of the way so he can wrap his arms around Jeremy’s shoulders, hissing at how cold his skin is. Jeremy can’t help but melt into the touch, face buried in his neck and hands pressed against his soft tummy. Michael’s not wearing his binder right now, so he makes sure to keep his hands away from his chest. 

He realizes, suddenly, that it’s been awhile since they’ve done this and that thought makes him tense up. “Are you sure this is okay?”

Michael huffs. “Jer, I’m tired of watching you shake so bad you can’t even hold your controller. Video games are no fun when you're like this. Nobody else is here, it’s winter, and you’re my best friend. This is fine.”

Jeremy relaxes again, letting out a content sigh against Michael’s collarbone. He feels  _ warm  _ again and it’s been too long since he’s felt this safe and happy. His bones feel like they’re thawing for the first time since it started snowing. “Hey, Michael?” he murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“Can winter be like, the exception?” 

Michael shifts a little bit under him. “What do you mean?”

“I know that people look at us weird when we… whenever we do anything, really, but can we just. Keep this going in the winter? When we’re just hanging out?” 

Jeremy waits for Michael to backpedal and tell him that that’s definitely not something bros do, even if it is winter and one of them is freezing all the time. He never does. 

“Yeah, man. That sounds good. It’ll be like when we were kids again,” Michael says softly. Jeremy smiles.

Winter doesn’t seem so foreboding anymore.

 

Although the deal was that they would go back to being kids again in private, Jeremy can’t help but amp up his displays of physical affection in public, too. It’s not like it’s overkill or anything, he just holds onto Michael’s arm and stays glued to his side whenever they walk together. So they get a few weird looks at school, who cares? Jeremy would so much rather be warm and criticized than cold and ignored. 

(A part of him is jealous that Michael’s body temperature adjusts itself so that he’s never too warm, even in the summer. He doesn’t overheat like Jeremy freezes. Lucky bastard.)

Jeremy  _ hates _ riding the bus to school. He wishes on the evening star practically every night that his dad will miraculously get up early enough to drive him to school, and yet his wish never comes true. He’s used to it by now. The only thing that makes riding the bus bearable is sitting with Michael. Michael could very easily get a ride from one of his moms to school, but he chooses instead to ride the bus just so Jeremy can keep warm. Jeremy can’t help but feel like a burden sometimes, always clinging to Michael for warmth he can’t get anywhere else. 

(One time Michael asked him if he would still be his friend even if he wasn’t warm all the time. Jeremy had answered with a resounding, “Well, duh.” He doesn’t know if Michael believes that.)

It’s December, fresh snow on the ground and even more falling from the sky, and Jeremy wishes he could appreciate how beautiful it is. Right now, bundled up in nearly every piece of clothing that he owns while he waits for the bus, he couldn’t feel more bitter about it. Why did he have to be cold blooded? Why couldn’t he be like Michael, who’s practically sunshine personified? 

His eyes squint against the cold wind rushing in his face as the bus pulls up, and he nearly slips and falls on some black ice trying to get to it as fast as he possibly can. He catches the handle on the stairs to steady himself, smiling awkwardly at the bus driver and making his way past the first few rows of seats to his and Michael’s. As usual, Michael is waiting there with an open arm clad in no winter gear aside from a stupid jacket and scarf. Jeremy collapses into the seat next to him, shivering as Michael wraps his arm snugly around his shoulders as if it’s the most natural thing he’s ever done. They don’t really talk in the morning, both of them too tired to put effort into their words. It’s okay, though. It’s a routine that they’re both more than okay with. There are never any kids in the seats immediately around them, so they don’t have to worry about getting weird looks from their classmates on the bus rides to and from school. One of the perks of neither of them having any other friends, Jeremy supposes.

Unfortunately, Michael removes his arm from around Jeremy once they get off the bus just like every other morning, but that doesn’t stop Jeremy from walking so close to Michael they might as well be one entity once they’re on the ground again. He slips his arm through Michael’s, allowing any warmth he can possibly get to wash over him. 

He lets out a sigh of relief once they’re inside, safe and warm and not being blown in every direction by the harsh winds. He lets go of Michael long enough to take his hat, gloves, and coat off, appreciating the fact that the heat from Michael’s skin can more easily seep through Jeremy’s thin cardigan than it could the thick coat. They ignore the usual bombardment of strange glances cast in their direction, simply walking to Michael’s locker as if nobody else exists outside of them. They don’t have to worry about going to Jeremy’s locker. He just stores his crap in Michael’s. 

In the classes that Jeremy doesn’t have with Michael, he has a habit of shoving his hands in his pockets and only taking down notes he thinks are  _ really _ worth taking down. This normally ends with hands that are still cold, and a mostly-blank sheet of notebook paper. He has no idea how he’s even passing these classes.

The ones  _ with _ Michael, however, are much easier. They keep their shenanigans to a minimum so that their teachers let them sit next to each other, their desks pushed together so Jeremy can sit shoulder to shoulder with him. His hands aren’t nearly as cold then. It’s much easier to take down notes and do worksheets with Michael next to him. At least then he can actually  _ move _ his hands.

They’re in fifth period together, working on a math sheet and Jeremy feels a shiver run down his spine so, doing only what is natural to him, he nudges a little closer to Michael. It’s nice until he hears a snicker behind them.

“You think they can actually stand to be apart for two seconds, or nah?” The voice belongs to some kid they never talk to, but Jeremy is pretty sure his name is Bradley, or something close to that. One of those jock names. He straightens up a bit when he hears Bradley and his friend snicker again. “Man, they gotta be dating. No dude’s that close to another dude if they’re just homies. Wonder if they like, sleep in the same bed and stuff.”

Jeremy furrows his brow because, first of all, why is that any of Bradley’s business? Why is he thinking about that? Are Michael and Jeremy really so important that even the school bullies feel the need to imagine what their personal lives might be like? And second of all, so  _ what _ if they sleep in the same bed when they have sleepovers? Jeremy is  _ cold _ and Michael is  _ warm _ and god damn it if Jeremy wants to snuggle with his best friend in the winter then he’s damn well going to. Doesn’t mean they’re dating. Because they’re not. 

Michael heard them too, Jeremy realizes, because he feels him tense up and sees him begin to turn in his seat. He’s probably about to tell Bradley off, but Jeremy knows that won’t end well for any of them, so he sets his hand on Michael’s arm and squeezes. Michael looks at him. Jeremy shakes his head and looks pointedly down at their math sheet. With a quick glance back at Bradley, Michael sighs and opts for turning back to their classwork instead of starting a fight. They ignore any more comments from Bradley for the rest of the hour.

Except, here’s the thing: Bradley is in their sixth hour too.

It’s harder for Michael to ignore this time. Jeremy has to keep talking to Michael about calming things like cute cat videos he saw or an episode of his favorite daytime soap opera (yes, he unironically watches those and hates himself for every second he spends invested in the storylines) to keep him from turning around and telling Bradley to just  _ shut up. _

“He’s not worth getting upset over,” Jeremy murmurs to Michael. “Just chill, man.”

“I know,” Michael grumbles, “but he keeps talking shit about  _ you _ especially.”

“So what?” Jeremy says, and Michael looks at him as if he’s gone absolutely insane. “So he thinks it’s funny that I need to cling to you all the time. He’s not wrong.” He smiles, chuckling under his breath and raising an eyebrow.

Michael rolls his eyes. “He shouldn’t be making fun of it, though,” he says coldly. “You can’t help that you’re freezing all the time.”

Jeremy shrugs. “Whatever, dude. He’s just an asshole.”

Michael huffs, but they leave it at that. Bradley eventually gets bored of making sarcastic comments about them, and they’re able to spend the last remaining fifteen minutes of the hour in peace before the bell rings and they can leave to go home. 

Jeremy should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

They’re at Michael’s locker, gathering their things while Jeremy psyches himself up for the cold trek to the bus outside. The last thing he expects is for Bradley’s voice to sound directly behind them  _ again _ .

“Y’know, guys,” Bradley says to his goons on either side of him, “I think it’s really sweet that Mike here lets his little pet hang all over him. Real nice.” He looks Jeremy dead in the eye. “But seriously, dudes. You don’t see any of the other cold bloods hanging all over their friends. Dragging them down.”

Jeremy sees Michael snarl, and he knows there’s nothing he can do to stop what’s about to happen.

Michael’s fist connects with Bradley’s nose, a distinct  _ crack! _ echoing through the hallway. Bradley falls backwards, his hand covering a bloody and broken nose as he glares up at Michael, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. Huh, so even the toughest of kids can cry, Jeremy thinks. He’s never wanted to hug Michael more than he wants to hug him right now.

Then he realizes how bad this is going to make them look.

 

“So you got suspended,” Jeremy says later that night in Michael’s room. He’s grounded, but it’s not like his moms are about to ban Jeremy from their house when he practically lives there anyway. “It’s only for a couple days! The worst part about this is you getting your GameCube taken away.”

“I’m not mad about getting suspended,” Michael says. “I’m mad about getting suspended while that  _ jerk _ got off free! He should have at least gotten a detention.”

“Well, we had no proof that he was saying mean shit,” Jeremy says. “There’s nothing we can really do about it.”

Michael sighs. “I know, man. I’m just ticked. Don’t I have a right to be ticked?”

“You have every right to be ticked,” Jeremy says, nodding. “I’d even go so far as to say you should be pissed.”

Michael cracks a smile at that, looking at Jeremy from where he sits on his bed. Jeremy smiles back before shivering and gesturing for Michael to join him. 

“Take your binder off already and get over here, dude,” he says. Michael has a bad habit of leaving his binder on for too long, and even if his chest isn’t very big at all thanks to the puberty blockers his parents put him on a couple years ago, Jeremy still worries that he’s going to mess up his back. 

He makes sure not to look while Michael changes out of his binder and into a sports bra, throwing his Pac-Man shirt back on and finally making his way over to Jeremy to squish in next to him on the beanbag. He wraps an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders so Jeremy can comfortably nestle his head in the crook of his neck, pulling the blanket up over the two of them and flicking on the TV to watch whatever cheesy Christmas movie is on tonight. 

In the dim light of the Christmas lights Michael has strung up around his room and the glow of the television, Jeremy suddenly remembers Bradley’s words from earlier.

_ Dragging him down. _

“Hey, Michael?” Jeremy says quietly. Michael hums in response. “Do I… drag you down?”

Michael mutes the TV. “I mean, sometimes you slump a little when you’re holding onto me—”

“No, dude,” Jeremy says with a shake of his head. “You know what I mean. Do I, like, hinder you, or whatever.”

Michael’s hand tightens on Jeremy’s arm. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, it’s just that Bradley said—”

“Really? You’re going to let something Bradley said get to you?” Michael scoffs. “You were the one who kept telling me not to let him get to me.”

Jeremy lets out a long sigh. “Can you just answer the question?”

Michael’s hand loosens, rubs up and down his arm. “No, you’re not dragging me down, man. I like being your own personal heater.”

Jeremy smiles, relieved to hear that. He still wonders if Michael is lying to protect his feelings, but for now, he lets it go. Lets himself be content. Jeremy thinks he could die happy, tucked into Michael’s side like this.

He wonders why the fluttering in his stomach won’t quiet down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WASSUP Y'ALL ok so yeah michael is a lil,, feisty,,, if that ain't A Mood. someone rags on jeremy? u bet ur buns i'm breakin some bones. anyway yeah i pulled from my own experiences with being freezing all the fucking time (eating disorder probs lmao) especially in the winter and self-projected onto jeremy even if we aren't cold for the same reasons. but all the like, not being able to take notes n stuff is something i dealt with a lot when i was in high school bc my hands would literally be too cold to write most of the time. it's actually part of why i almost didn't graduate yeehaw
> 
> anyway, tmi aside, i hope u guys liked it??? these poor boys are trying so hard lemme tell ya. leave comments!! i can't function w/o positive reinforcement bc i'm just. Like That. thank u!!


	3. haircuts and necklaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael gets a haircut, and Jeremy doesn't know why he does the things he does.

Once, when they were both seven years old and full of infinite love for life, Jeremy decided that even though the world didn’t deserve Michael, Michael deserved the world. But how do you express that when you’re only seven and know nothing but laughter and eyes that sparkle with happiness?

In Jeremy’s case, you give gifts.

Michael’s hair was still long. It fell over his shoulders, soft and dark, and Jeremy liked to braid it. He had given a little pout when Michael told him that he was going to have his mom cut it.

“I want people to stop thinking I’m a girl,” Michael told him. He giggled at Jeremy’s pouty face. “You wouldn’t like it if people kept thinking you were a girl, would you?”

Jeremy’s pout disappeared, replaced by a thoughtful expression. He shrugged. “I wouldn’t really mind,” he said. “Doesn’t matter to me, I guess.”

Michael tilted his head. “Oh,” he said, “okay. Well, it matters to me. I’m a boy.”

Jeremy nodded. “I know you are,” he grinned. “You’re gonna look so good with short hair, Michael!”

Michael beamed. “You won’t miss my long hair too much?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Nope! If you’re happy, I’m happy. I don’t like it when people think you’re a girl either.” As much as Jeremy hated it when their classmates called Michael by the wrong name and used the wrong pronouns, he never corrected them. Michael didn’t want him to. He told Jeremy that even though they were both okay with it, and Michael’s moms were okay with it, a lot of people might not be. 

“I think I’ll tell our teacher this year that I want her to call me Michael,” Michael said. “Maybe the kids in our class will be okay with it.”

“I think they will be!” Jeremy said excitedly. “And if they’re not, I’ll beat them up for you!”

Michael laughed, poking Jeremy’s forehead and filling him with instant warmth. “How? You’ve got noodle arms.”

“I’m stronger than I look!”

“Really?”

“I’m a  _ dragon _ , Michael.”

“Okay, then beat me at an arm wrestling contest!”

Jeremy didn’t get the chance to take him up on that ever-so-tempting offer. There was a soft knock at the door before Michael’s mom was poking her head in to tell him that she was ready to cut his hair whenever he wanted. Michael let out an ecstatic, “Yay!” and hopped off his bed, bounding out into the hallway to follow his mom to the bathroom. Jeremy followed after, both nervous and excited to see what Michael would look like after all his hair had been chopped off to be donated.

He watched, only a little bit anxious, as Michael’s hair fell to the towel on the floor. Neither of them spoke. Michael’s mom stayed silent as well, focused solely on her son’s hair. Jeremy could see Michael chewing at his lip, so he reached out and grabbed his hand, smiling brightly. Michael smiled back.

When it was done, Jeremy could barely contain himself. In fact, he seemed more excited about it than Michael did. But that was probably because Michael was too busy staring at himself in the mirror. 

“It looks so nice!” Jeremy squealed, jumping up and down.

“It…  _ feels _ nice,” Michael said, running a hand through it. “It’s so light.”

His mother leaned down, placing her hands on his shoulders and smiling fondly at his reflection. “Look at you,” she said. “So handsome.”

Jeremy nodded vigorously in agreement. Reaching out a hand, he stopped suddenly, looking at Michael in hesitation. “Can I?”

Michael nodded in return, and Jeremy wasted no time in surging forward to ruffle his hair with both hands. Retaliation was to be expected, and Jeremy couldn’t help but let out a delighted squeal as Michael shrieked with laughter and ruffled his hair in return. He could hear Michael’s mom chuckling in amusement. 

“Wait until your nanay gets home,” she said. “She’s going to love it.”

Michael pulled back, swatting Jeremy’s hands away. “ _ I _ love it,” he said, gently patting his hair back down. “Do you think people at school will know it’s me?”

Michael’s mom pursed her lips. “I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll have to re-introduce yourself to everyone.” She smiled.

“And if anyone is mean to you—”

“You’ll beat them up, I know,” Michael giggled.

“Just try your best not to get caught,” Michael’s mom said as she began tidying up the bathroom. Jeremy was well aware of the fact that he wouldn’t be beating anyone up; at most he would  _ maybe  _ give them a decent shove. He would definitely give them a piece of his mind, though, that’s for sure. Nobody would give Michael crap for being who he was if Jeremy had anything to say about it. And he had a  _ lot  _ to say about it.

An hour later, the television in Michael’s room playing some movie they’d both seen before, Jeremy stared at the collection of trinkets he’d given Michael in the past year sitting on his dresser. The conglomeration of action figures, pouches of marbles, sea glass, Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and other such useless items sat and stared right back at him. They  _ taunted  _ him, something about them making him feel uncomfortable. Like they weren’t  _ enough.  _ Like he needed to give Michael a lot more of useless trinkets or he needed to give him something so great that it topped all the useless trinkets put together. But what? What could he give him that would show him how much Michael means to him? And more importantly,  _ why is this such a big deal to him? _

He decided that the next time Michael came over to his house, he’d have something picked out for him. Something great. Something so awesome it would blow Michael away.

 

Okay, so, uh. A necklace that his mother left behind was not exactly what Jeremy had in mind. 

But that was okay! He would just… find something else to give him before Michael showed up in the next half hour. Something much better than a gold necklace with a little ruby heart charm hanging from it. 

The only problem, however, was the fact that literally everything else just felt  _ wrong. _ He picked up a bracelet that he used to wear in kindergarten— nope. What about his favorite CD— nope. Or maybe his favorite movie on VHS—  _ nope _ . Everything that he thought might make a good substitute for the necklace made his gut twist. It wasn’t that he was hesitant to give it away, it was just that he didn’t understand  _ why  _ it had to be that necklace of all things. It could have been anything else, but the twist in his gut and the ringing in his ears told him that it was  _ that _ necklace. 

Now, if he could just stop being so nervous that he might actually throw up, that would be swell. Again, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was so nervous about, but anxiety was a thing that was happening and that shouldn’t have been a big surprise because he’d been a ball of anxiety since he exited the womb. 

_ Ding-dong. _

Jeremy gave a start at the sound of the doorbell ringing, not having realized he’d gotten so wrapped up in his mess of a mind that thirty minutes had already gone by. He set the necklace on his desk before dashing downstairs, knowing his dad wouldn’t get up to answer the door if it was just Michael. 

“Nanay and Mama said they’d come in to say hi, but they’re late for something. A dinner date I think,” Michael said, shutting the door behind him. 

“What do parents even do on dinner dates besides eat?”

“Taxes, probably. Whatever those are.”

Jeremy shrugged, gesturing for Michael to follow him up to his room. He glanced at the necklace, wondering if right now was a good time to give it to him. Probably not, considering the fact that Michael was rambling about some Marvel comic he just finished reading. He’d wait until later.

As the night wore on, Jeremy found that the more he thought about giving Michael the necklace, the more excited  _ and _ nervous he got. He couldn’t quite place why he was so excited about it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how  _ weird  _ this would be. Giving his best friend—of only one year, mind you—a necklace that his mom used to wear all the time? His mom, who left him and his dad? Yikes.

But… whatever. This was something he had to do. For some reason. Ugh.

It wasn’t until later that Jeremy decided it was now or never.

“Oh, Michael!” he said, reaching forward to the TV and pressing pause on their movie. “I forgot that I have a present for you.”

Michael cocked his head in curiosity. “Another one? Where do you keep getting all these things for me?”

Jeremy ducked his head, embarrassed. “I just… find stuff. I dunno.” 

Michael laughed. “Okay, well, what do you wanna give me?”

Taking a deep breath, Jeremy stood up and wandered over to his desk, picking up the necklace before returning to his bed and sitting in front of Michael. “I… want you to have this?” He held out the necklace.

Michael blinked, looking from Jeremy’s outstretched hand to his face. “You kind of sound like you don’t know if you  _ do _ want me to have it.”

Jeremy felt his face grow warm. “I-I just. I feel like you should have it? Um, my mom used to wear it all the time, and I always thought it was super pretty, and red looks super pretty on  _ you _ , and no one else is going to wear it and it should be  _ worn  _ I mean that’s what necklaces are  _ for  _ but if you don’t want to take it I understand why that might be weird—”

Michael’s laughter shut him up, the hand holding the necklace shaking a lot more than he wanted it to. It was his turn to blink in confusion, red-faced and heart pounding. “What did I say?”

Michael’s laughter died down into a giggle, his face bright and beaming and so, so pretty. The new haircut really did look great on him, Jeremy thought. How lucky was he to have such a nice boy as his best friend?

Lucky enough to have that best friend reach out, take the necklace from his hand, and put it on over his head, apparently.

“You’re silly,” Michael said. “It’s not weird. It’s a pretty necklace, and if it’s from you, I love it!” 

The warmth from where Michael’s fingers had brushed against the upturned palm of his hand blossomed, spreading up his arm and into his chest, his stomach, his head, his legs, his toes, his entire body at once. He felt his mouth slowly break into a wide grin, eyes glued to Michael’s. All anxiety had dissipated to make room for pure, unadulterated  _ joy,  _ practically bursting at the seams with happiness.

“Michael!” he squealed. Before he could stop himself, he was throwing out his arms and wrapping them around Michael’s shoulders, tackling him into the bed. Their giggles echoed throughout the house and Jeremy knew they were probably annoying his dad, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Michael liked the necklace.  _ Michael liked the necklace. _

“Get off of me, Miah!” Michael said, laughter still bubbling from his throat. He playfully swatted at Jeremy’s back, wriggling underneath him to try and get him off of him. “You gotta tell me if it looks good or not.”

Jeremy’s eyes flung open and he immediately pushed himself up, kneeling on his bed before helping Michael to sit up. He looked hard at Michael, eyes flickering from the necklace to his face. It didn’t take long for him to come to a conclusion.

“It looks perfect!” he said happily. “I told you red looks good on you. And gold. Red and gold.”

Michael fingered the necklace, and Jeremy felt a sense of unease wash over him as Michael’s smile faded just a little, watching him look down at the charm hanging from his neck. What remained of his smile quickly turned into a full-blown, panic-inducing frown. Jeremy couldn’t even find the courage to start babbling out an apology, his words and heart caught in his throat, choking him even if he didn’t quite know why. As per the usual.

Finally, Michael looked up at him, his frown still very present and very worrying. He furrowed his brow in what almost looked like concern. “You’re really okay with giving this to me?”

Jeremy nearly shrieked with relief at Michael’s question, but instead he forced himself to breathe and nod. “If you’re okay with taking it!” he said cheerily, hoping that any semblance of anxiety on his part had dissipated. 

Michael was quiet for a second, his eyes still looking over Jeremy in a way that a seven-year-old’s eyes shouldn’t be able to. There was too much knowledge, too much awareness in his expression. Jeremy didn’t like how he felt like Michael knew things about him he didn’t even know about himself.

“It was your mom’s, though,” Michael said quietly, looking back down at the charm. “Don’t you miss her?”

The question seemed a little out of place, taking Jeremy by surprise and making him blink. He pursed his lips. “Yeah, I do. A lot. But… she’s not coming back. Dad said so.” The little voice in his head muttered a word that his dad always told him he wasn’t allowed to say, hating how his lower lip had betrayed him and started trembling. “I dunno. It’s not like anyone else is going to wear that necklace. I like it, and I like you, so… I just feel like you should have it, okay, Michael?” 

Forcing himself to just  _ get it together _ , Jeremy found himself looking up into Michael’s smiling face. Oh, thank the gods, his smile was back. Jeremy didn’t know how much more of the frowning he could take. 

“Okay,” Michael nodded. “I like you too.”

The warmth that bloomed in Jeremy’s chest had nothing to do with Michael touching him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i felt bad for taking so long writing the next chapter so i decided to post like half of it since it's a decent length
> 
> anyway!! take the time to comment pls it would mean the entire universe to me :0


	4. cold showers and snuggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael is hot (in both senses of the word) and Jeremy is cold. But you already knew that, didn't you?

The summer between sophomore year and junior year, Michael suddenly finds that he can’t step out into the sun without immediately keeling over from heat stroke.

It happens about a week after school gets out. In the days leading up to it, both Michael and Jeremy had begun to notice some…  _ interesting  _ new occurrences. They weren’t bad, gods no, but they were definitely concerning. Flowers had started leaning toward Michael— not too conspicuously, but enough that it made both boys tilt their heads in confusion.

The flowers almost seemed to tilt  _ with _ Michael. It would have been cute if it hadn’t been so unnerving to experience for the first time.

The day after they noticed the flowers, they had decided to hang out in Michael’s backyard by the pool. Michael, just like any other person regardless of whether they’re human or not, has always been susceptible to sunburns. (“Isn’t that, like, child abuse or something?” “No, Jeremy.”) It had just so happened that that day, outside in eighty degree weather in shorts and a tank top with no sunscreen on, Michael just… didn’t burn. At all. They’d been out there for  _ three hours,  _ and even Jeremy— who had actually remembered to put on sunscreen like a smart boy— had gotten a little bit burned. Michael pointed out to him that he was starting to look a little bit red and simultaneously realized that he’d neglected to put sunscreen on himself. He’d cursed under his breath, dashed inside to the bathroom, looked at himself in the mirror to make sure he hadn’t totally burned to a crisp, and blinked. His own irritation at himself for having forgotten something so important had quickly melted away into shock.

Jeremy waited a couple of minutes before going inside to check on Michael, wondering why he was taking so long to put on sunscreen. When he nudged open the bathroom door, Michael was staring in the mirror with a baffled expression and no red skin whatsoever. In the back of his mind, Jeremy was a little bit miffed about the fact that Michael had managed to avoid getting burned without even trying while he still came away a little red. 

“Dude,” Jeremy said, placing a hand on Michael’s shoulder, “maybe we should ask your parents what’s going on.” 

Michael decided he wasn’t in any place to argue with that.

And now, thanks to the fact that Michael is fucking  _ manifesting _ , according to his moms, Jeremy finds himself in the terrible position of not knowing what the hell to do for his best friend. On any other day, it would be Jeremy with the extreme body temperature issues rather than Michael. But here they are, Michael lying in bed clad in nothing but boxers and a sports bra on a cool seventy degree day,  _ still  _ sweating so much he could swim in it. Jeremy’s never seen him like this; he’s always been the perfect temperature. Never too warm, never too cold, even on negative degree days in the winter and hundred degree days in the summer. Jeremy can’t believe he’s even alive right now.

“Dude, you don’t have to stay here,” Michael says from his pool of sweat. “I’m not any fun right now.”

“You might not be, but your GameCube still is,” Jeremy says with a teasing smile. “I'd rather be bored here than at my own house anyway.”

Jeremy hears Michael huff in defeat, and a small part of him wonders if Michael  _ wants  _ him to leave and just isn’t telling him. He pushes that thought aside when he runs a hand through his hair and notices with disgust just how greasy it is, the realization that he hasn’t showered in about two days hitting him square in the face. With a groan, he pauses his game and lifts the ice pack Michael has set over his face to smirk in amusement at him.

“Hey, Sunny Boy,” Jeremy says, and Michael rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll grab you another ice pack before I come back down.”

“Just bring me the entire fucking freezer at this point,” Michael says, and Jeremy kind of doubts that he’s joking. But he also doubts his ability to bring an entire freezer downstairs, even if he is a dragon. 

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Jeremy laughs, flopping the quickly-melting ice pack on to Michael’s face again.

He feels bad that he can’t do more than bring Michael ice packs, and he knows Michael’s parents wish they could do more than keep the AC on full blast. (Yeah, Jeremy’s fucking freezing thanks to that, but he’s not about to climb in and cuddle someone who’s ninety-percent sweat by now. He does have limitations.) If he could bring Michael the freezer, he would. Hell, he’d bring the entire continent of Antarctica to Michael if he could.

It’s when the shower’s running that he has a terrible,  _ terrible  _ idea.

Except it’s not terrible. Not really. It just sounds terrible to  _ him _ because he’s going to have to force himself to do something he would really rather not do. But it’s for Michael, and in the end, they’ll both be happy. He just has to suffer for a few minutes. Nothing new.

He’s grateful for the warmth of the shower water, relishing in it while he can because Jesus  _ Christ _ he’s pretty sure he’s about to die and he better damn well get some brownie points for doing this for Michael.

Theatrics aside, Jeremy really is hesitant to turn the knob back the other way. He’s already cold enough as it is, but… Michael deserves at least a couple minutes of relief.

He turns the knob.

...Huh. Okay. Not that ba— Oh,  _ fuck _ , there it is. It takes all of Jeremy’s willpower not to scramble out from under the cold water, to hold himself under it as he repeats a mantra of  _ It’s for Michael _ in his head. Jeremy can’t believe he’s willingly allowing himself to get this cold. This is what he strives to  _ avoid _ , but like he told himself before, it’ll be worth it afterward. If he doesn’t die first.

He decides he can only take about three minutes of freezing cold water before he turns it off and gets out with chattering teeth and of fucking  _ course _ the AC kicks on again right at that moment so he’s got cold air blowing on his feet, and holy shit his fingers might actually be turning blue.

It takes him much longer to towel off and throw some boxers and a T-shirt back on than he would like, but eventually he does and he tosses the towel to the side before shuffling back down into Michael’s room. Michael is up and moving about, surprisingly, tugging on the corner of his bed sheets.

“Progress report,” Michael says. “Still hot, still dying, but not hot  _ nor _ dead enough to continue lying in a puddle of my own sweat. So, new sheets.”

“That’s great,” Jeremy says between his teeth. 

“Dude,” Michael says, “are  _ you _ alright? Because you kind of look like you just came from the fuckin’ North Pole or something.”

Jeremy nods, arms wrapped around himself. “Might as well have,” he says before jerking his chin in a  _ come here _ gesture and waiting for Michael to oblige. The anticipation of the first touch is driving him absolutely insane.

When Michael puts a hand on his shoulder in concern, Jeremy fucking  _ moans _ . He can’t help it and he really hopes that Michael doesn’t take it the wrong way, because it’s strictly from pure relief at the simple blossom of warmth in his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Michael breathes out, his other hand coming to rest on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Oh, holy shit, man. You’re a fucking  _ lifesaver. _ ”

Thank the gods, Michael closes the distance between them and wraps Jeremy in a bone-crushing hug, groaning when he feels just how cold Jeremy is. Jeremy presses his face into Michael’s neck, ignoring the sweat for the sake of just getting warm again.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Michael laughs quietly into his hair and Jeremy holds his breath because Michael’s voice is so soft and Jeremy can feel his stomach flip for some reason. “I would have been fine without a human ice pack.”

Jeremy smiles. “First of all, not human. Second of all, can we just lay down or something? I’ll only put the covers over me.”

Michael nods. They’re both reluctant to let go, and Jeremy hates that he can’t move faster than he’s able to at his current temperature. He feels sluggish and  _ gods _ he just wants Michael to hold him right now, bring a little heat back into his shaking body.

It’s a bit of a task to get situated comfortably in Michael’s bed, blankets pulled up as much as they can be so they only cover Jeremy for the most part. Honestly, the blankets don’t even really do anything to help; it’s all Michael. As soon as he slides into bed behind Jeremy, he’s got his legs tangled with Jeremy’s own, an arm underneath Jeremy’s head while his other arm comes to rest around his waist, and his face in the back of his neck. Jeremy sighs, content with their position.

“Dude,” Michael says, sliding the hand around his waist underneath Jeremy’s shirt to press against his stomach. Jeremy has to force himself not to jump, not to pop any awkward teenage boners right now because the last thing he wants is for Michael to think he has a thing for him. Because he doesn’t. “You just won, like, every fucking award in my book.”

Jeremy snorts. “Why, because I froze my ass off for you? I’m always cold.” 

(Not with Michael wrapped around him like this  _ never _ with Michael wrapped around him like this.)

“Exactly,” Michael says. “You’re always cold and you  _ still _ took a freezing shower just so I could cool down for a while. That’s some real homie shit.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re a real homie.”

Jeremy laughs, setting one of his hands over the one Michael has resting on his stomach. Disregarding the fact that Jeremy is literally just a libido with legs and Michael touching his stomach isn’t really helping with that, his hand is warm and Jeremy can feel himself thawing under his touch. He’s long since stopped caring what boys do and don’t do in their platonic relationships, content to let his best friend spoon him even if it makes his heart beat a little faster and his stomach do somersaults. 

(He tries so hard to ignore it but sometimes the somersaults become a little too much and he can feel himself floating can feel himself flying can feel himself  _ crashing _ when Michael smiles when Michael laughs when Michael frowns.)

“Nanay said that this should only last a few more days,” Michael says. 

“A few more days of me taking cold showers just to make sure you don’t completely melt,” Jeremy says. He’s mostly kidding.

Michael shifts against his back. “Hey, why didn’t you just, like, make the shower cold and tell me to get in it? I feel like that would’ve saved you a whole lot of pain, man.”

Jeremy blinks. He… hadn’t even thought of that. Why was  _ this _ the first his mind jumped to?

“Uh,” he says, “I’m not really sure, honestly? I guess I just wanted to, like. Do  _ this. _ ”

Jeremy feels Michael smile against the back of his shoulder. “Jeremy,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“That’s kinda gay.”

Jeremy’s face splits into a grin. “ _ You’re  _ kinda gay.”

“Well,” Michael says, taking a deep breath, “you’re definitely not wrong about that.”

Jeremy’s smile falters, unsure of whether or not Michael is joking. He turns his head just a little bit, even if he still can’t see Michael. “Really?”

Michael nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Sorry if that, like, makes this weird or something. I can move—”

“No!” Jeremy says quickly, his hand tightening over the one Michael has on his stomach. “Dude, I don’t care. I mean, why would I?”

Michael hesitates, then gives a soft shrug. “I dunno. I just don’t want you to think that it changes anything with us, y’know? Like, just ‘cause I like dick doesn’t mean I like  _ your  _ dick.” 

“Gee, Michael,” Jeremy says, and he’s only kidding around but there’s definitely something in his chest twisting uncomfortably. “You really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Shut up,” Michael laughs. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Jeremy nods, voice soft. “I guess I kinda figured, y’know? You always did romance the guys in your games even when you were playing as a guy.”

“That should have been a dead giveaway, honestly,” Michael snorts. 

Jeremy hesitates. “Hey, how come you didn’t tell me sooner?”

“I don’t know,” Michael replies. “I guess I just… didn’t think I had to tell you? Like, it just seemed like such a normal thing. It wasn’t really some big revelation. I’m already trans, so being gay isn’t a huge deal to me. So I just thought I’d mention it when it got brought up.”

Jeremy purses his lips. “That’s fair,” he says. “Dude, I’m proud of you, though.”

Michael squirms. “Why?”

“All of this shit,” he says. “I know it’s super normal to us and our families, but to a lot of other people it isn’t. So I’m proud of you for being so…  _ okay _ with yourself. That’s how it should be, man.”

“Jeremy.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re being gay again.”

“Shut up!” Jeremy laughs. “I’m trying to fucking compliment you, you dickhead. Just take it.”

Jeremy feels Michael smile against his shoulder again and he really wishes he could stop the fluttering in his stomach. “Yeah,” Michael says softly. “I’m proud of me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!! hope u guys liked this!!!! i wrote like all of this on the back of receipt paper at work lmfao
> 
> it wasn’t until after i wrote jeremy getting into bed w michael all cold that i was like uh.......he could have just ran a cold shower for michael. but hey i went with it bc GAY
> 
> writing this helps me vent some of my personal Touch Starved issues lmao. pls comment i’m dying


End file.
